The Ways of Truth and Love
by Tempered-Grief
Summary: The council meets and they make a decision concerning the future of four young Hogwarts students. Harry feels life is getting too complicated- he's being chosen to join societies he knows nothing about, and someone's dark red hair is on his mind. R/R
1. Toast to a New Year

A/N: I don't own any of the characters or anything you spot that belongs to J.K. Rowling. The quote is credited, so you can't bust me on that one either. This is just the first chapter of an exciting story that's coursing through my head. If there's any support, I'll continue. If not, I'll pout sullenly for days. There you have it.  
  
  
  
"When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall." - Mahatma Ghandi  
  
Toast to a New Year:  
  
The butterbeer flowed freely in the great hall on Monday- December 31. More people than usual had signed up to stay for Christmas since Voldemort's regain of power, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was among the safest spots left in Europe. Professor Dumbledore had decided to hold a New Year's feast to bring some cheer to those who had to stay behind and couldn't be with their family. With dark days looming ahead, the subtle pleasures of an evil-free world were becoming scarce.  
  
Dumbledore stood at the head table; the ringing of his wand against his glass was magically amplified so that everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to his prominent figure.  
  
"My time-piece has informed me that we are exactly twenty minutes, forty three seconds, and eight million blinks of a Cornish Pixie's eye away from the New Year!"  
  
Harry grinned as he watched this statement sink in with several first years that, after a whole term, still were not accustomed to Dumbledore's strange ways.  
  
"It is customary to raise a glass shortly before midnight and say a toast in honor of days gone by and days to come. There is another tradition that I would like to uphold before we toast, however: New Year's Resolutions.  
  
There was a murmur of interest throughout the hall as everyone began to ponder what habits they wished to rid themselves of, and which they would like to pick up. What could they do better? Or in Fred and George Weasley's case, what could they do worse?  
  
"We will start with the teacher's table and continue until everyone has had a say!" Dumbledore continued merrily.  
  
"Oh.oh no!" Hermione moaned quietly. "I'm no good at public speaking, and I haven't even had time to prepare! Honestly! I'm going to embarrass myself!"  
  
"It's no big deal, Hermione. Just say what comes to mind; it's not like your running for office or anything," Ron's words slurred together as he goaded Hermione. Harry found it amusing that Ron could manage to be so mocking even when tipsy on butterbeer.  
  
"I, Albus Dumbledore, am resolved to learn how to tango." The hall grew quiet with this ludicrous statement. "Well, I saw it performed at the annual Warlock's Ball last August, and I was most curious as to how it was done. Knowing how to tango could come in handy.you never know!"  
  
"I, Minerva McGonagall," she had a bit of trouble concealing her laughter at Dumbledore, "promise to be more understanding with my students and perhaps a bit less harsh on them. After all, it might make me a better person."  
  
George Weasley uttered an, "Excellent!"  
  
"Quiet Weasley!" McGonagall snapped.  
  
"I, Sybill Trelawny, solemnly swear to reach more people with my visions and predictions so that I might share my burden of seeing the future's atrocities." With this, she cast a misty eye on Harry who whispered to Ron, "Great, she'll have no trouble keeping with her resolutions."  
  
Where Professor Snape and Hagrid should have been, there were only empty wine glasses. Snape was undercover in Voldemort's personal circle; Hagrid was abroad as an envoy to the remaining giants. Yet another reminder that life wasn't all fizzing whizbees and quidditch. The last of the teachers finished with their resolutions and then it was the student's turn.  
  
Neville was going to get more marks in potions and commit the trick stair to memory so he wouldn't trip over it as much. Ron also promised to study harder and spend more time in the library, however- Hermione swore she would go to Hogwarts more often, and the library less often. Fred and George, of course, decided to make the last term of their last year the best yet. What they meant by this was not spoken, but everyone began to think of what new pranks the twins were planning now. Harry wanted to make an important resolution, but none that he thought of could really be shared with a hall full of students. So he formed a plan, as the new house quidditch captain, to finally perfect the Wronski Feint. His private resolutions rang in his head: "I promise to stay out of trouble more often. I swear to take care of trouble if it comes, though. I am resolved to never let another innocent die because of me..."  
  
Resolutions completed, Dumbledore raised his glass. Everyone followed suite as he carefully chose his next words.  
  
"We now have only one and a half minutes before a year of our future together begins. I must speak quickly... This year has been both good and bad for the cause against darkness. Bad because we have lost a few, to death and things far worse than death." He cast a glance at Snape's empty chair. "Good because we are still banding together and joining forces against this. We cannot truly know what the days ahead will bring, not with logic, research, or even crystal balls." To everyone's surprise, Professor Trelawny nodded in agreement to this. "Therefore we can only hope for the best and pray for miracles of the miraculous sort. So, here's to the known, what we have been through and fought against, and here's to the unknown, whatever it may be."  
  
"Here, here!" said McGonagall.  
  
"I'll drink to that!" cried Ron.  
  
Midnight chimed throughout the castle as a few students from the Hufflepuff table began the chorus of Auld Lang Sine. Everyone drank to the toast and joined in singing. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sang along though Ron was too 'toasted' to know half the words, Harry didn't know half them sober; and Hermione was slightly off key. What was going to happen? They had no way of knowing, but at least they had come this far. 


	2. The Sands of Time

1 Chapter 2: The Sands of Time  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one for disclaimers  
  
A/N This takes place the year after chapter one (Harry has already completed the second term of his 5th year and has now been in 6th for about a month)  
  
"God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.  
  
Reinhold Niebuhr, The Serenity Prayer (1934)  
  
  
  
The new year came much to quickly for most of the Hogwarts students. One minute they were playing games in their yards and having lie-ins right and left. The next minute they were faced with a serious load of classes. The students couldn't help but notice a few changes at the start of term... Last year's mediocre DADA teacher had apparently packed his things, a year and a month into his contract, and decided to leave before being fired, discovered as a werewolf, cloned with a polyjuice potion, or any of the other horror stories he had heard.  
  
"What are we going to do now? I've read up on other magical school curriculums this summer. Did you know that Bayou Chatte's School of Sorcery in America has already studied vampires, dragons, and advanced hexes? We so far behind!" Hermione wailed as they took their seats in the teacher-less classroom.  
  
"Well, at least this means less homework," Ron grumbled.  
  
As six years, the trio had begun to take even more courses in fascinating but difficult fields of study. Luckily, they had filled their schedules so full, there was no room for divination. This didn't stop Trelawny from predicting Harry's death. Along with familiar classes like transfiguration, charms, herbology, and (regretfully) potions, they found themselves immersed in books like Music and Magic: Cast Spell With Your Instrument and Medicinal Sorcery- Ancient Healers and Modern Doctors. Harry fumbled through passages of music on his horn while Ron beat the rhythm on his quads. Neither of them was capable of making much magic with music, but Hermione had managed to progress quite quickly on the flute. She was also excelling in the medicinal sorcery class. Professor Ache said she showed promise in being a very fine nurse. Needless to say, she was still the insufferable know-it-all from year one. Only now, she graciously helped with homework.  
  
Quidditch was going wonderfully...Since Oliver Wood had graduated three years earlier, and Katie, Alicia, Angelina, Fred, AND George had all followed the year before; Harry was the only remaining Gryffindor quidditch player. Therefore, he was the only candidate for captain, a position which he took almost as seriously as Wood had. Tryouts were very promising: Dean, Seamus, Ron, a 7th year named Timothy Ransom, a 3rd year named Lisa Limperly, and, surprisingly enough, Neville Longbottom, all made the team. Dean and Seamus proved to be excellent beaters, though they lacked the antics and diversions of Fred and George. Ron ferociously guarded the goals, and he didn't let one quaffle past him, except the one Neville drove through the space under Ron's broom. Neville had surprised everyone with his flying ability; he seemed to be finally growing out of the awkward 'stage' that had possessed him since his first year. Timothy and Lisa weren't bad either; they were accurate and precise, if not swift, but they made up for their slowness with their perfect strategies. 'It isn't the same team, but change can be good' Harry mused.  
  
So there they were in DADA, wondering what was to come next, when a ghost filtered in from behind the chalkboard.  
  
"Hello! My name is Horace Waitsfield, and as my life can't really be put in much danger, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been given to me!" He chuckled at his own joke, but the class just gawked.  
  
"Now, you may not think that a ghost would be any good at defense, seeing as how I died by way of a horribly unspeakable curse and all, but that's where you'd be wrong! I survived at least fifty curses before that, and countless encounters with Vampires, dragons, and advanced hexes..." Hermione gave a sigh of relief. "I can't wait to get started...yes? What is it? A question already?"  
  
Dean Thomas had raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir, if you don't mind my asking, what horrible curse killed you off?"  
  
Professor Waitsfield ignored the tactlessness of the question and leaned forward to whisper to the class.  
  
"Oh, it was horrible! I was killed by an... adhesive hex."  
  
The class snickered.  
  
"What? Oh, well that wasn't the horrible part. The horrible part is that I was 'adhered' to the backside of a blast ended skrewt! See? Here's the burn mark, and here's the sting scar...Oh! And here's the spot where it sucked out my blood!" he said cheerfully.  
  
The rest of the class was fun and entertaining, and Hermione left with much better spirits.  
  
"Well, straight to History now. What a let down." Ron groaned.  
  
"Yeah, now we know what ghosts can really be like. Reckon old Binns has got a sting scar?" said Harry.  
  
They walked into the room, taking seats in the back, prepared for yet another mind numbing lesson about the exile of the giants or some four hundred million year ago event about which no one cared. Harry was already feeling sleepy when a man, a real live man, strode purposefully into the room and started mumbling to himself. He began to sprinkle sparkly sand around the edges of the room, careful to include every desk within the sand. He stopped in front of Harry's desk.  
  
"Er, would you mind moving your bag, Mr... Oh, I've already forgotten your name. Could you tell me again?" He spoke distractedly to Harry.  
  
"I haven't told you my name, in fact, we don't know yours." Harry stated simply.  
  
"Oh! Oh yes, introductions. Well that's a relief I haven't forgotten your name, though rest assured, young man, I will. My name is Blaine. Blaine Bourge. Dear old professor Binns has decided that he is much to old for teaching anymore, although I must say, for the type of history you lot have learned, the older they better." With this he started mumbling to himself again, something about new theories and old biases. Hermione looked as if she might pop with eagerness.  
  
"Did he say Bourge? Blaine Bourge? The genius of our time? I...I don't believe it! It's him! Oh, I've read ALL his works. He really is a genius, you know," she hissed at Ron and Harry.  
  
"Well, he seems a bit, uh, nutters to me. Don't you think so, Harry?" Ron sniggered.  
  
"Not one genius exists without a touch of madness. I learned that in philosophy two days ago. Why are all the teachers quitting a month after school starts?" Harry whispered back.  
  
"Beats me, but what a lucky break! Great new DADA teacher, and this guy isn't even saying much and he's already more interesting than Binns." Ron smiled and cracked open his history book.  
  
"NO!" shrieked Professor Bourge. "Close that awful book! In fact, everyone, keep your "history" books in your rooms from now on! History as you have been taught will hopefully be replaced with a breath of fresh air. Something of importance... revolutionary..." with this, he began to wave his wand at the sand, yet still mumbled on and on under his breath about new methods and ground breaking ideas.  
  
"My dear students, today you began your real education in history. Goblin rebellions and contracts between the nations mean nothing now. They are ancient and will help you with nothing but trivia games. I am here to keep you UP TO DATE with what is UP TO DATE. Current events! In order to do so, I'm going to use a little invention of mine to help you brush up on the past twenty years. This may take a month or so, but afterwards, we will began discussions and presentations on what's going on NOW. That is important. Let those who would live beyond our lifetimes study history, we will MAKE their history."  
  
Hermione positively quivered with excitement. Harry, however, didn't know what to think. What was this little invention? Would they be studying his story also? It had happened in the last twenty years.  
  
"Now, class, don't be frightened, but in a few moments, I'm going to use the 'Sands of Time' to take us back in time. We will observe only, the past can't tell we're there, and in turn we can't meddle. It's a bit like a time turner, only without interaction. So, hold on tight, we're about to see history, not take notes."  
  
He muttered a final incantation, and Harry felt the all too familiar pull behind his navel that told him he was about to be confronted with something unknown. Everything went blazingly white, and he felt solid ground beneath his feet at last.  
  
"Where are we?" He heard Lavender Brown whine. "It's really creepy. Can we get back?"  
  
"Yes, yes, dear girl. Look up that hill! You see that house?"  
  
Indeed, they all saw a fine manor at the top of a hill.  
  
"That... THAT is where evil as we know it is being brought into this world as we speak!" Professor Bourge cried.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I am the cliffhanger goddess! Bow before me, and grovel, for I hold the power to continue this story! Okay, so it's not like I won't continue if you don't r/r. I'm not that cruel. Are you cruel? No? Then be a responsible reviewer. Gracias. 


	3. Hell Hath No Fury

Chapter Three:  
  
Hell Hath No Fury  
  
"Those that set in motion the forces of evil cannot always control them afterwards."  
  
- - - Charles W. Chestnutt  
  
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  
  
Everyone followed Professor Bourge's lead and began to trudge up the slippery hill. Neville lost his footing once, and had nearly rolled all the way down before he righted himself once more. The grass was dense and wet, but Harry noticed that his feet left no blades trodden, nor did anyone else's. He supposed this was because they were merely observing.  
  
"Now, no one will be able to actually see or hear you, but I suggest you remain quiet and pay attention to detail. Be sure to take notes, this will be on your exams!"  
  
Harry searched his pockets for a quill and parchment, but he hadn't been holding them when the class had disappeared from their desks.  
  
"Hermione," he whispered, "have you got any parchment?"  
  
Ron looked imploringly at her also. Hermione tutted and pulled a few sheaves of paper for Harry, Ron, and herself. Harry took his wand and muttered, "Imprintia Verdes." His wand instantly began to spout green ink.  
  
"You were a bit forceful. Say it softer next time, like this: imprintia azules," Ron said as blue ink fountained out of his wand.  
  
They stemmed the flow and adjusted it so that they could take notes on whatever was to come. Hermione's eyes grew wide as they passed a dark cemetery that had been (or was to be?) the site of Voldemort's return to power. She looked to Harry for conformation, who nodded grimly. The graveyard was absent of one thing, though: the grave of Tom Riddle's father.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Porter, sir, you've noticed something...perhaps something that can tell us where, or rather, when we are?" Professor Bourge asked.  
  
"Er...well, it's Potter, sir, and this is the home of Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Vold...er, You Know Who. His father's grave is missing, so I'm assuming this is a time before his death."  
  
"Excellent, POTTER! Except one thing – Lord Voldemort never lived in this house, as you will see. If everyone will please turn their attention towards the front door, we will soon encounter a very important piece of our past, and future."  
  
They all stared hard at the door and listened intently for any sounds. Presently, they heard a slipping and sliding, coming up the hill. It was heavy and having much difficulty, but Harry couldn't actually see what it was. At long last, a hand slapped the earth at the top of the hill. Another hand appeared, and the person to whom they belonged hoisted themselves over the last bit and lay panting on the wet grass. It was a woman with dark hair breathing heavily. She pushed up and eventually stood on unsteady feet. It was so dark that no one could make out her face or build, except her stomach seemed to protrude a small bit beyond her waist, as if with child.  
  
The woman took a staggering step towards the door of the house and nearly fell over again. She leaned against the frame in exhaustion and knocked as hard as she could. They waited in absolute silence. Harry had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew what was happening. The door opened and light flooded the porch, and the woman. She was beautiful. Her hair was long and black, and it fell in wild tangled curls down her backside. Her clothes were torn and sodden, but they couldn't hide her slender frame and slightly swollen, pregnant belly. Her face and eyes were perhaps what struck Harry the most. Her mouth was twisted in a grimace of pain and her cheeks looked as if they had sunken in with recent hunger, but her gray-green eyes held nothing short of strength. They were strong with hatred and contempt while the rest of her was bent in weariness. The man who now stood in the door was tall and thin with a brown goatee and a look of pure disdain.  
  
"You," he spat. "What are you doing here? Come to convince me to take you back? You disgusting piece of filth. Go cast your love spells elsewhere...they will not work on me. I know the truth!"  
  
"You know nothing," she said with a voice colder than any Harry had ever heard, save one. "You cast me aside as if I were just some debauched mistress! Can you not use your eyes! I'm no fool. Even if you offered to take me back, I would refuse. You could beg me and plead with me to have what we once had, but I would spit in your face. If I had any strength left, I would give you what you deserve, but the killing curse takes might, and that I don't have."  
  
"Curses! What nonsense is this! Whatever troubles bring you to my door, they are your own. You lied to me! I loved you, and then you betrayed me! How dare you even show your face here! If you would refuse me, and spit in my face, then why did you bother to come at all? I have no more love for you!"  
  
"Nor I for you. You are not right to blame me. I did not betray you," with this she began to cry. "You betrayed me. I gave you my heart, my love, and my deepest secret, but you rejected me for it. I am here to tell you that what little time we had together did bear fruit." She patted her stomach tenderly.  
  
The man looked at her belly with the greatest of disgust.  
  
"That disgrace of a child, as no doubt it will be, is no fruit of mine."  
  
"You reject him too, then?"  
  
"He will do magic?"  
  
"Yes, he will do great magic."  
  
"Then he has no place in my heart. He is not my responsibility. He would ruin the Riddle name and bring dishonor upon this household and all who live within it. Now leave! Take your shame and wretchedness and leave! I never want to come face to face with you or that child ever again. If I do, you will be sorry. I will make certain of that." He ended with a sneer on his ugly face.  
  
"No," the woman said quietly. "No, you will be sorry. Your foolish prejudice has just sealed your fate. You will regret this! One day you will realize how wrong you were and how sorry you will be then!" an odd grin began to grown on her face. A light illuminated her from nowhere, and she seemed more beautiful and menacing.  
  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle! Your decision has brought about your death! This child will bear your name! I have foreseen him; he will be a boy, but he will grow to be something more than a man. He will despise you as I do, and you and your 'rightful' progeny will suffer at his hands! Your people who have for so long hated we who do magic, they will feel his wrath also! They will get what they deserve in the end! He will be more powerful than any of our kind! The blood that flows in his veins is both yours and that of the great Salazar Slytherin's. His noble blood will lend him the ability to do great things, but his repulsive muggle blood will give him the loathing he needs to do his work. There will be a day when ALL will fear his name, but you will not live to see it! He will avenge me. You shall see."  
  
The light grew brighter, and the man's eyes narrowed with intention.  
  
"You...you threaten me?" He stammered. With one motion, he reached out and grabbed a lock of her black hair.  
  
"No one threatens a Riddle. Funny way of scaring me, when all I have to do is...push you. Goodbye, witch."  
  
The woman flew backwards down the steps. She landed on her tailbone with a load crack and her head hit the concrete with a sickening thud.  
  
Hermione gasped and clutched Ron's arm in disbelief. Everyone stood aghast, waiting to see what this horrible man would do now. He, however, didn't make the next move. The woman moaned in pain and sat up rather suddenly. Her eyes locked with the man's as she clutched her stomach.  
  
"Even now, he still comes. You have spurned this evil. You have brought this on yourself." The last words were punctuated with a high, cruel, laugh. The woman laughed and laughed while Harry's insides writhed. Her laughter was cut short by the screams of unmistakable child labor. She fell back and went rigid, but still breathed in air. A man ran from around the corner. He was hastily pulling on a coat.  
  
"Wha- what is it master? What is happening?" He cried.  
  
"Agris, listen to me carefully. Do not ask questions. Take this woman to the upstairs bedroom. Do NOT call the doctor. When the child his born, send for Frank and tell him he must take...it to a church. Any church. Leave it there. It's future is not our concern. And the woman...after her pains are over, kill her."  
  
"Master!" Agris gasped.  
  
"Do as I say! I will not let her stand in the way of my pure bloodline heritage," He looked at her and his face almost softened. His eyes fell upon her black hair and delicate face. He looked as if he remembered a time when he did not hate her, when he didn't know...  
  
"If only it could have been different. I would have given it all up for you." He sighed softly.  
  
"Master! LOOK!" Agris yelled. He pointed to the sky.  
  
The class looked up also. The sight that greeted them was both unexpected and terribly frightening. Neville slumped to the ground in a dead faint, while Lavender and Parvati shrieked in hysterics. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, or possibly scream, but all that would come out was "Oh, oh, oh." Ron gasped and put his hand over his mouth to stifle a yell. Harry clapped a hand to his scar as began to burn ferociously.  
  
Hovering just above the Riddle house was the Dark Mark. It glowed a ghastly green and it seemed more vivid than the one at the world cup. Perhaps this was because it was filled with the promise of every evil ever committed under its influence. The men on the ground carried the woman inside, shutting the door behind them with a bang.  
  
"It's not quite over." Professor Bourge muttered. "Listen."  
  
All was quiet, then, like a thousand whispers, they heard the slithering of many scaly bodies over slick wet grass. Around them, snakes of every shape and size began to move towards the house. Their undulating bodies were so closely packed, it made Harry dizzy to watch them. Just as the nearest snake was no more than a foot away, everything gave a jolt, and the class found themselves in the classroom once more. The bell was just ringing for lunch, but no one got out of their chairs.  
  
"Well, that went rather successfully for a first run. Er...Mr. Shortbottom, is it? See me after class for some pepper up potion. You look a bit pale. Everyone is to write an essay, in any style of writing you please, on their experiences with the Sands of Times. Your impressions, thoughts, perceptions, whatever you wish. Yes, Ms. Ranger?  
  
"How long does it have to be?" Hermione asked, not bothering to correct him on her name.  
  
"In this classroom, we are not bound by policies such as length and width. We deal with time! Time not only goes forwards and backwards but side to side while intertwining, therefore your essays have no limit."  
  
Hermione looked thoroughly impressed as they left for lunch.  
  
"Did you get any of that last bit?" Harry asked Ron.  
  
"Not really, but as long as I can write half a piece of parchment, I'm not caring too much about the paths of time."  
  
"That was amazing. Simply amazing. Did you know that's how it happened? And all those snakes? What did that mean?" Hermione wondered.  
  
"I don't know," Ron mused, "But rest assured, I did learn one thing."  
  
"Oh?" Hermione questioned.  
  
"NEVER tick off your girlfriend."  
  
Harry laughed so hard at this that he nearly missed Ginny calling his name.  
  
"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Wait! It's important!" she called from up the stairs leading to the entrance hall.  
  
"What is it now, Ginny?" Ron grumbled. Mrs. Weasley had given him strict instructions to watch carefully over Ginny. A few people at the ministry were a little disgruntled over Mr. Weasley's involvement with the rumors about Voldemort being back. They made it clear that they would do everything they could to stop him from alarming the public, and Mrs. Weasley feared for her youngest daughter's safety. The other children were growing older, but she was still the baby of the family.  
  
"A letter arrived for each of you three. There up in the common room."  
  
"Gee thanks, Gin. Letters, how important. I'm going to eat lunch now."  
  
"No! I got one too, oh; you've just got to see. They were delivered by these two huge birds that had feathers of every color you could think of! They also sang rather nicely... But the letter! That's the important part! Come and see!" Ginny was so excited that she actually started sprinting back up the stairs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione could do nothing but follow her up, so they did.  
  
The common room was empty, since everyone was eating. On a table, beside Ginny's school books, lay three thick envelopes closed with a seal that looked like a...  
  
"A phoenix?" said Harry.  
  
"Open them!" Ginny demanded.  
  
Harry broke the seal and took out a letter. He began to read the first page:  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
It is our great honor to tell you that you have been recommended as a potential member of the Order of the Phoenix. There will be a council on November the 17 at midnight beside the fire of Mr. Remus Lupin. As you are underage, please contact a senior member and request information on how you are to arrive. There we will discuss your membership and take a vote. Should you be selected, you will be a part of the oldest order of wizards since the beginning of time. Good luck, Harry, your parents would be proud.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Mr. Sirius Black  
  
Harry glanced up from his letter to find that Ron looked as confused as he did. Hermione, however, had turned very pale.  
  
"Order of the Phoenix," she breathed. "God help us... we're going to fight Voldemort."  
  
That only took about three hours! I hope this was as fun to read as it was to write. Please R/R and tell me if you like where this is going. I don't own anything but the original stuff. Professor Bourge is my inner creative genius put into words. He's too cool, is he not? 


	4. The Council Meets

Chapter Four: The Council Meets  
  
For evil to triumph, good men have to do nothing.  
  
Edmund Burke  
  
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny followed behind Harry as they made their way to Dumbledore's office. Harry's face was creased with worry. He didn't know what the letter that was clutched tightly in his hand meant, but Hermione's words weighed heavily on his mind, "...we're going to fight Voldemort." She hadn't said 'You Know Who'. 'You Know Who' was that ominous darkness that shadowed their future, and his past, but that was the extent for most students. When called by his proper name, Voldemort was a very real and powerful enemy.  
  
Hermione looked very much the way Harry did. No doubt that her long hours in the library had informed her all about this 'Order of the Phoenix." Her mouth was set in a grim line, and Harry couldn't help but notice how brave she looked when faced with what was obviously disturbing news. Ron swallowed a lump in his throat. He had become more and more of a true Gryffindor. He was anxious a lot, but never cowardly. Harry supposed he was less afraid for himself than for his sister, Ginny. Ginny's eyes were glued to the ground. Her initial excitement was gone, and was replaced by fear and apprehension. She was the youngest of the four, and she had never really faced any three-headed dogs or dark lords with their power freshly returned. She bit her lip and looked up at Harry who glanced away quickly. He had been looking over his shoulder, making sure the others were keeping up. He hadn't meant to stare...  
  
They came to a halt in front of a large stone gargoyle. Harry looked nervously at the others.  
  
"I don't really know the password," he confessed.  
  
Just then Dumbledore's door swung open and there he stood, calm but deadly serious.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore! We..."  
  
"We need to talk to you..."  
  
"We got these letters!"  
  
"We figure you of all people would be a senior member..."  
  
They all started talking at once. Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them.  
  
"Yes, yes, Mr. Black sent me a letter informing me of your recommendments also. I'm afraid I am a little worried; it's been years and years since the Order has chosen such young potential members. But, there is a council meeting set for this Friday night at midnight, and I'm sure all will be cleared up then. Meet me here about ten minutes till on that night, and we'll go together. Clear?" his tone was brisk, and it was obvious he was preoccupied with something other than how they were going to get there.  
  
"Well, okay, but there's still..."  
  
"What is this order?"  
  
"Why were we chosen?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Hermione cut the others off with decisive last words, and Dumbledore mumbled "Good, good," and returned to his office.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, "We still don't know anything. We weren't done asking him questions!"  
  
"Ron, he was busy. And besides," she said with a slight sniff, "I know about the Order of the Phoenix. You COULD ask me, if you're not too arrogant."  
  
They made their way back to the common room has Hermione proceeded to explain.  
  
"The Order of the Phoenix is the oldest assembly of wizards in magical history. Ever since there was an evil to fight, there have been wizards to fight it. They call it the Order of the Phoenix because it is made only of the most powerful good wizards, and a Phoenix is the most powerful magical creature. Plus, a Phoenix's tears heal wounds, just as these wizards can heal the wounds left by evil. The last time it was organized was in Voldemort's day, er... first days. Rumor has it that they had finally come up with a way to defeat him, but they never got around to it. Harry did it first." She paused and looked at Harry for effect.  
  
"Members are selected by a method very similar to the Goblet of Fire used in Tri-Wizard tournaments. They have a phoenix in their secret headquarters, and every time it regenerates, it spells names with its fire. Well, not every time. The truth is, they aren't really a whole lot of wizards in the world who would qualify. It's based somewhere in Europe, but every once in a while a wizard from another country gets in. It's just that this area is so old and all. Anyway, any questions?"  
  
"What exactly do they do?" Ginny asked in trepidation.  
  
"They are a highly trained, highly powerful task force equipped to fight evil. Kind of like muggle superheroes, only it's very secretive, and they are only called to order when needed. I suppose that their new mission is to take care of Voldemort once and for all."  
  
She barely needed to add any drama to this explanation. Ron paled under his freckles and Ginny would have, had she not grown out of her freckles years ago. Harry's face became graver still.  
  
"Well, why do they want us, then? We're young, inexperienced, and if I'm not very much mistaken, scared out of our wits!" Ron fumed.  
  
"We're not THAT inexperienced, Ron. You forget, we could have been killed years ago, countless times! We've survived this far. We're brave, for one thing, and willing to put our lives on the line. This has been proven over and over," Hermione informed him.  
  
"Then why do they want ME?" Ginny moaned.  
  
"What do you mean, Gin? You're a Gryffindor, just like the rest of us." Ron tried to console his little sister. They had reached the fat lady.  
  
"Morning Glory," Ginny mumbled. The portrait swung open. "It's just that, well, you guys have had adventures and things, and I'm just, Ginny!"  
  
"That's not true, Gin. You know it. You've been in on a load of adventures. Remember that day in the corridor when you distracted Professor McGonagall for us so we could sneak into the hidden room? You are a true Marauder."  
  
"Fun and games. That's all. I'm not really a part of this group, I never have been. You three have something special, but I have always been Ron's little sister. I'm not trying to whine...I'm not! I like who I am, but I'm not one of you. I don't think I'm going to go Friday." She gathered her books off the table where they had first seen their letters.  
  
"You have to go." Hermione said quietly.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny chorused together.  
  
"Once your names are written in fire, you have to go. This doesn't mean that you get in. The council members still have to interview you and vote you in. There's still a chance they will think we're too young." Hermione said.  
  
"Besides, Ginny, it's just like the Goblet of Fire in one respect: Your name wouldn't have been chosen if you weren't qualified. That's that. As for not being one of us, we didn't start out as best friends; it took an adventure to bring us together. You never know, you might just find your place." Hermione finished, smiling down up at the younger girl (Ginny had grown quite tall in the last two years).  
  
Ginny looked down and sighed.  
  
"I suppose, see you Friday then." And she trudged up the stairs to her dormitory.  
  
"Mum is going to go for blood if she finds out Ginny's been chosen." Ron muttered.  
  
"Let's not worry about it. There's no use. Up to bed, you two! I'll see you at breakfast."  
  
The boys left the common room, neither of them seeing Hermione move closer to the fire, a very troubled look on her face.  
  
  
  
The next day, Harry wolfed down his breakfast and ran to his Musical Magic class. Ron hadn't bothered to wake him up that morning, since he usually slept later than Harry anyway and had probably thought he was already downstairs. Harry had slept with the curtains tightly drawn. He slid into his chair just as the bell rang and closed his trumpet case with a loud bang. Ron grinned at him from the percussion pit, his elbows sticking out at odd angles as he held his sticks. Hermione was warming up with the usual arpeggios and such. Parvati and Lavender rolled their eyes and began blasting their shrill notes. Dean was emptying his trombone's spit valve onto the marble floor, and Neville was looking nervous as he peeked out from behind a tuba that was bigger than he was. He should be nervous, Harry thought, who wouldn't be with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him?  
  
He caught sight of Cho Chang, carefully putting the reed on her clarinet. She smiled and waved at him, giving him a thumbs-up for getting there on time. She was in her last year, and Harry was surprised to feel that the undying, un-requited love he had once thought he felt for her was waning just a bit. He wondered if Ginny had gotten over her original smitteness she had for him when she was young. His eyes traveled over to the french horn section, and he was surprised to find that Ginny's long frame didn't fill the first chair. He glanced around the music room, searching for a red-headed figure, but found none except Ron, who was staring at a piece of music intently and counting out loud. Class started, and Harry forgot all about the missing Weasley.  
  
Care of Magical creatures turned out to be better than usual – Hagrid had made a rare appearance and was giving them a lesson about wand cores and the creatures used to make them. Hagrid only came once or twice every other week. He was still on 'special assignment.' He looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a bit of anxiety, but didn't ask any questions until the end of class.  
  
"Hagrid! It's great to see you again. How is everything going with the gia... special assignment?" Ron inquired.  
  
"Forget that. I know about you four being recommended. Now listen closely: you weren't chosen just because the phoenix up and decided to be funny. No, you were chosen for a reason. However young you are, the council is gonna realize, and when they make their decision, it's very likely they will approve."  
  
Hermione gasped.  
  
"You're all brave, loyal, quick witted... all four of you. But, one of you was selected because of something you couldn't help. I'm not telling you who, don't jump to conclusions either, but I'm counting on you guys to take care of each other. I can't be there tonight, but I've already cast my vote. So, go to your next class." Hagrid looked around, nervous that anyone could be overhearing him.  
  
They didn't say a word, they just went to lunch without asking questions. How had Hagrid voted? Ron said that he was too worried about their safety, but Harry was secretly sure Hagrid believed in them, and in the Order. Harry was proud that Hagrid, as dense as some people though he was, was a member of the noblest wizard order in history. He wondered what it would be like to say that he, too, was among those who brought Voldemort down for good.  
  
That night, at ten till midnight, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a very pale Ginny found themselves facing the gargoyle again. Everyone was dead silent. They had tried to look a little presentable; Hermione had even braided her fluffy hair so that she appeared a bit more put together. Ron had scrubbed his face so hard it had turned as red as his hair. Dumbledore opened the door wearing robes of the darkest scarlet, trimmed in gold.  
  
"Come in, we can leave right away. I dare say, we'll have a lot to discuss tonight." He smiled merrily. He led him into his cluttered, irregular room where they found a roaring fire and a tired figure leaning wearily over it. On closer inspection, Harry saw it was none other than Professor Bourge, staring absorbedly into the fire.  
  
"They're here, Blaine; we can leave now," Professor Dumbledore said, drawing Bourge out of his reverie. Professor Bourge looked at them with tired, sad eyes.  
  
"It's a pity...doing the right thing would practically be condemning them to their deaths, you know. When I wished that there could be fresh ideas and theorems in the Order, I didn't mean we should rob the cradle." He sighed and took a pinch of dust from the basket beside the fire.  
  
"Yes, well, they haven't been voted in yet. And remember, they are no strangers to what we have to deal with. Indeed, they are closer to it than they think."  
  
Dumbledore handed them all pinches of floo-powder and stood facing the fire.  
  
"Fyr Fugl" he said, and he stepped into the flames and disappeared.  
  
The others followed, and Harry found himself in a small circular room with no windows and a single door. There were fifteen or so chairs in a circle near the fire, and Harry held his chin up as the occupants of these chairs looked up to greet him. A few were shocked, others were disdained, and still others, like the familiar looking man in the corner, looked resigned and welcoming. Harry was just beginning to realize who the man in the corner was, when something slammed into him. He had been standing in front of the fire, and Ginny had nearly bowled him over as she entered. She turned beet red and scuttled quickly to the side as Harry apologized profusely. After everyone had entered, and the regular members had all taken seats, Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
  
"Dearest friends, tonight we hold a very special meeting. We are here to interview and/or induct these four who have been chosen by the Phoenix." He gestured to a large, fiery plumed bird. Their names were traced in fire just below the bird's perch.  
  
"And so, Harry Potter, as you are in front, will you please step forward and face the council."  
  
The others were swept out of the room by a tall woman as Harry took a few halting steps forward. The council's faces came into view, and he was surprised to see a few faces he knew. Professor McGonagall sat with a stern stiffness, but she looked on the brink of tears. Professor Bourge still gazed distractedly at a wall. Harry took his chance and took a fleeting look into the corner, trying to recognize the man he had seen earlier, and saw not only Lupin, but Sirius too! They looked warm and confident. This cheered Harry slightly.  
  
"What do you believe should come first, Harry, the riddance of Voldemort from this world, or the end of prejudice and the beginning of peaceful coexistence?" The question came from a shadowy corner of the room. Harry didn't know whom to address, but he thought for a few moments before replying.  
  
"I believe that it may seem Voldemort's defeat is more important right now, but the only way that could possibly come about is if we DID have peace between those with differences." Everyone murmured and whispered. He couldn't tell what this meant.  
  
"Faced with the opportunity to overpower Voldemort and possibly live, or save your friend, say Ron for example, which would you choose? Think of the results." Sirius, who studied him intently now, put this question forth.  
  
"My experiences with danger has taught me that I don't have much of a chance by myself anyways. My friends have always been there. Where I had weaknesses, they had strengths, and reverse. I don't think that I could defeat Voldemort without them. So, I might as well save them!" He smiled. Ron would say the very same thing, he knew it.  
  
"What is the driving force behind your want to do right? Any wizard can start out good, but unless he has a true strength, he can turn bad very easily."  
  
My parents, Harry thought. No, he did not want to avenge his parents' deaths. Revenge was what Voldemort was getting.  
  
"The future. It scares me to think that after I die, people might still live in the fear they have today. I want to do everything I can to make sure that no one will have to come home to see the Dark Mark floating over their house. Like the one over my house..." His voice faltered.  
  
Thank you, Harry, you may exit now. Please send Mr. Weasley in.  
  
Harry left with a heavy heart. His answers were rushed and silly sounding. They certainly couldn't vote him in now. He waited in the small receiving room in silence with Hermione and Ginny. Hermione paced the room while Ginny sat on the floor with her knees drawn under her chin. Ron came out a short while later, flushed and flustered. He whispered to Hermione it was her turn, and she gathered her wits and pushed the door open. Harry faced the two Weasleys. For the first time, he really wondered why Ginny had been chosen. She claimed to be ordinary, and as far as Harry knew, she was. She was very pretty; her pale face didn't look sickly, but rather delicate. Her hair was darker than Ron's, making it a burgundy color he thought rather nice. She was soulful looking, and she had grown quieter as her height increased. Harry supposed the boys should be falling over themselves to take her to the Three Broomsticks, or to late night strolls around the castle, but this hardly qualified her to be in the Order.  
  
Hermione came out with her head held high.  
  
"Ginny, you're next."  
  
Ginny pulled out of her cramped position and strode over to the door. With one last desperate glance at Ron, she pushed it open and went inside. Harry let his mind go blank as they waited in silence. Ginny eventually came back out and sat down again.  
  
"Their taking a consensus."  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore opened the door and motioned them inside. They stood once again in front of the council, all in a line. Dumbledore turned to the council and spoke. We have cast our votes; now let us inform them of our decision. Harry, step forward once again please."  
  
Harry felt his forehead start to glisten as he placed himself before the most powerful wizards ever assembled.  
  
"You answers to the council's questions prove you are braver than most. You have a great heart and you seem to know what our purpose is. Therefore, the last question you must answer is this: Do you, Harry Potter, agree to uphold the honor of the Order of the Phoenix and put your life on the line in the name of the abolition of evil?"  
  
"Y...yes sir!" Harry whispered.  
  
"Then I present you with these, the medallion which shows that you are a member, and these robes bearing the Order's colors. You are to wear the medallion at all times, and the robes will be worn to meetings only. Congratulations Harry, you will do well."  
  
Harry numbly took his medallion and robes. He hardly felt it when Hermione threw her arms around him in delight and Ron slapped him on the back. Everyone tried to shake his hands at once, and he was giving a seat beside Sirius. From this position, the other three looked very frightened indeed.  
  
"Ron Weasley?" Ron stepped forward. "Your responses to the questions showed you were also very brave, and loyal. You are a dedicated friend, and we think you would make an excellent addition to the Order. Do you, Ron Weasley, agree to uphold the honor of the Order of the Phoenix and put your life on the line in the name of the abolition of evil?"  
  
"Yes, yes I do." Ron said solemnly. He was handed his things, and he went to sit by Harry, still looking rather unsteady.  
  
"Hermione Granger?" Hermione made a squeaky noise and stepped forward. "You have proven through your answers to be very wise beyond your years. Your sharp intellect and knowledge will hopefully prove to be an asset to the Order. Do you, Ron Weasley, agree to uphold the honor of the Order of the Phoenix and put your life on the line in the name of the abolition of evil?"  
  
"Yes." She nodded and took her place beside Ron. She attempted a smile, but it failed rather miserably.  
  
"Ginny Weasley?" Ron sat up in his seat as his sister stepped forward. He seemed tense, worried for her. "You have shown us all a deep rooted fervor to rid the world of evil. It is in your very nature to oppose Voldemort. You have peace, and above all, clear goals and a cool head. Do you, Ginny Weasley, agree to uphold the honor of the Order of the Phoenix and put your life on the line in the name of the abolition of evil?"  
  
Ginny's knees wobbled as she shakily answered, "Yes." Dumbledore handed her the robes and medallion and led her to the seat beside Hermione.  
  
"Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen, you are now official members of the Order. The vote was unanimous. Realize that there is risk involved, but we sincerely believe you can handle it. Please tell no one of this, never inform anyone who does not bear the medallion that you belong here. Voldemort is all too aware that there are those who would turn to grouping together to take him down. It is too dangerous for anyone to know you are a part of that. Now, we need to get back to school! There's a Hogsmeade trip in the morning, and you don't need to sleep in too late!" He winked, and everyone began to stand and stretch. "You will all be informed of the next meeting!" He shouted over the din.  
  
Wizards began to dissaparate, after they gave the four one last handshake. Lupin smiled wanly at them before clapping Harry on the shoulder.  
  
"Never doubted it for a second. You are Order material if I've ever seen it."  
  
Sirius smiled apologetically and dissaparated as quickly as he could, no doubt it was still not the general belief that he was innocent. He probably wanted to get back so that he might find a good hiding place until the next meeting.  
  
Harry didn't remember using floo-powder to go back to Hogwarts, or the long walk back to Gryffindor tower, but he did remember Ginny's long auburn hair spill down her back as she headed up the steps to her room. Odd sort of memory to have, really, he thought as he drifted to sleep. He'd sort out his impressions of tonight in the morning. His life was getting a little more complicated, in more way than one. 


	5. Destinies and Deepest Longings

I have the horrible habit of taking up new projects and suddenly losing interest in them. Instead of accepting the fact that I haven't updated many of my stories in about two months as the end of Tempered-Grief's short career as a fan fiction writer, I'll just turn my life around and continue something I've started for once. This said, I might also add that I do not own anything Harry Potter related. If I were J.K. Rowling, we'd still all be reading book 1. Oh, yeah, and I'm TRYING html, but I'm not promising any fruit.  
  
  
  
cCHAPTER 5/c  
  
"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."  
  
-William Jennings Bryan  
  
The castle stood tall, quiet, and absolutely still. Not even Peeves interrupted the calm with his usual tricks and jokes; Moaning Myrtle had silenced her gasps and sighs, and the house elves had yet to prepare breakfast. Only Harry Potter was awake in the entire castle, or so it seemed to him as he sat before the common room fire. A thick book about magical herbs and plants commonly found in the jungle lay face down on a table near him. He had meant to read his assignment, but his mind was too noisy for a book. He lacked concentration  
  
As Harry stared into the fire, he thought back to the moment he had received his medallion and robe. The heavy object was hidden under his black school robes, a secret flame cloaked in darkness. The medallion never warmed next to his skin, but remained cold. Ron had reported that his refused to warm as well. It was a good feeling to know that he was important for some other reason than being Harry Potter, but he and his friends had not received a moment's ease in the week since the council met. Dark circles shadowed his and Ron's eyes, so he knew he wasn't the only one losing sleep. Hermione was shifty and uncomfortable, and Harry had the feeling that perhaps the Order wasn't the only thin on her mind. She was absent-minded and a little clumsy, which wasn't like Hermione at all. She had always been very collected and matter-of-fact. Now she spilt ink, dropped books, and blushed furiously at odd times. He supposed it was a girl thing. Ginny had fit in rather well, which surprised Harry. He had been so used to two other partners in crime that three should have been a major change, but Ginny contributed by eating meals with them and discussing things in low whispers whenever two or more of them met. Harry had begun to find out a lot more about Ginny and her strange ways. For instance, he had never known that she liked old muggle music, or that her hair was naturally curly where the other Weasley's had straight locks…  
  
Harry shrugged these thoughts off as the fire popped and a log fell, scattering ashes and sparks. A fiery red spark hit his Herbology book and began to leave a black, smoky mark on its cover.  
  
"ARGH! NO! Blasted fire!"  
  
He swiftly brushed the ember away and sucked on his burnt thumb.  
  
"He…Hello? Did someone say something?"  
  
A small, timid voice floated from the stairwell. Harry glanced up to see Hermione and Ginny peering over the banister in their nightdresses.  
  
"Hey, it's just me. I was just cursing this burn on my hand. Wait a minute, what are you both doing down here?"  
  
"Ginny had a dream, and she came to my dorm to wake me. Parvati threatened to tell if we kept her from sleep, so we came down here." Hermione said, a bit of the old haughty edge creeping into her voice. "And what are Iyou/I doing here?"  
  
"Couldn't sleep," he grumbled. Now that they were here, he couldn't act upon the sudden idea that had hit him earlier. Well, perhaps it would be nice to have some company.  
  
"Say," he said coyly, "I've an idea that just may help the Order. Would you like to help me?" He clenched his teeth into what he hoped was an innocent smile, and prayed that Hermione wouldn't chastise him.  
  
"Oh yes! Sure!" Ginny was enthusiastic.  
  
"What kind of help do you need?" Hermione began to descend the staircase.  
  
"I was thinking about the mirror of Erised." Hermione halted mid-step and raised her chin a bit.  
  
"I don't think it's in the best interest of three of the youngest members of the Order of the Phoenix to go disobeying school rules under the pretense that they are 'helping'," Hermione began to climb back up the stairs.  
  
"What about two of the youngest?" Harry gave Ginny a hopeful look. Ginny looked at Hermione for a long second. Hermione seemed to give in somewhere behind her eyes, and the younger girl bounded down the stairs.  
  
"Sure, why not?" Ginny grinned. She was one for adventure.  
  
"Good, I was sleepy anyway. Ginny, you could tell Harry about your dream and fix that nasty burn on his hand."  
  
"Oh, Hermione, you wouldn't happen to have your copy of the Marauder's Map, would you?" Harry inquired. The first thing they had done after the incident with Barty Crouch's son, a.k.a Mad Eye Moody, was make duplicates of the map.  
  
"It's in my room, sorry."  
  
"It's okay, I have mine, Harry." Ginny produced her copy from the depths of her night robes. Harry didn't even bother to ask why she had it.  
  
"All right, I have the cloak with me, so I guess we're off. Bye Hermione, see you bright and early for the Hogsmeade trip!"  
  
"The…Hogsmeade…oh…dear, me." Hermione began to stutter and act clumsy again.  
  
"I don't think I'll go, I have lots to do." She turned on her heels and ran up the stairs to her room.  
  
"What is with her these days?" Harry asked. "Or do I even want to know?"  
  
"No clue, but with all that stumbling and such, I'd say she was in love."  
  
At these words, Harry practically fell over his feet. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "Love, fancy that." He had learned more secrets about the map so that now, with the use of his wand, he could conjure up the location of inanimate objects. The mirror of Erised appeared to be in a tower right next to the Astronomy turret, but it was little used and supposedly condemned. This would be interesting.  
  
He and Ginny covered themselves in the cloak and set out. The fat lady didn't even wake up when they left. The map showed no one stirring, but they still didn't say a word. Risking your neck as a regular student is one thing, but risking your neck as a member of the oldest order of wizards ever is entirely different. Finally, Ginny spoke.  
  
"What is this mirror of Erised, anyway? How is it going to help us?"  
  
"It is a mirror that will show you what your heart most desires, what you want more than anything. The last time I looked in it, I saw my family, but I think that if I want Voldemort to die bad enough, it just might show me how. You won't be able to see what I see, but I could tell you all about it. Now, let me ask you a question: what did you dream?"  
  
They walked in silence while Ginny gathered her thoughts. Finally she took a deep breath and started to tell him.  
  
"The dream in itself wasn't bothersome. It wasn't meaningful or anything, but I only dreamed it because of what they told me at the meeting."  
  
"What…did they tell you, Ginny?" Harry's curiosity was peaked.  
  
"They talked a lot about things like fate, and destiny. Professor Bourge tried to explain something complicated about everyone having infinite destinies, and the one they choose is theirs, but then a woman argued with him over that, and Dumbledore eventually had to settle them. It seems that there is a certain destiny that I can choose, but my choice was taken away when I joined the order, when I became friends with you. It's not very happy, Harry. I don't know if I would choose it if I even had the choice anymore, but now it's final. It's stamped into me."  
  
"I don't believe in that. I believe that you can shake any destiny."  
  
"And yours? You think you could shake yours? You were destined to be the boy who lived. There's nothing you can do to change that." Ginny's voice was sounding somewhat strained and frightened.  
  
"No, but that's not destiny, that's the past. What's done is done, but what will happen is mine to say."  
  
"That's what I thought," she replied miserably. "Apparently, when it's for the greater good, it isn't quite that way."  
  
Harry was just about to ask what this great destiny was that upset Ginny so much, when they came to the foot of a condemned flight of stairs. Without words, they discarded the cloak and Harry tucked it under his arm. Hoping that the condemned sign was just there to deter mischievous students, they started a precarious, creaky journey to the top.  
  
The stairs proved stable enough, but they went on forever. Finally, shivering with cold and out of breath, the two stumbled into a tower room, larger than the astronomy tower, yet smaller than the owlry. There, in the corner, stood the mirror of Erised, gleaming and un-touched by dust.  
  
Harry nodded at Ginny, and they crossed the room to stand before it, oblivious to the three unchecked figures walking around on the map, one hurrying quickly toward them.  
  
Harry turned and faced the mirror, bracing himself for whatever would come. What did meet his eyes was entirely unexpected. At first, just he and Ginny were standing in the mirror. He turned to tell Ginny to move, but she wasn't there at all! She was at a window, gazing out as she waited for him to finish. He looked back in the mirror; Ginny was standing next to him again, wearing pretty dark green robes that were a shadow of his own bottle green ones. A large grin spread across her face as Harry realized what it all meant. What he really wanted, deep down inside, more than anything was…Ginny? He stepped away a little confused. Her image moved with him and she stopped in a pool of moonlight. She really was quite pretty, but honestly! What he wanted more than anything?  
  
"What do you see?" The real Ginny called out.  
  
"Uh…my… family. Just my family again," he managed a weak laugh before nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. "You next."  
  
"Ginny cautiously sidled in front of the mirror. She stared for a while and then, quite suddenly, let out a piercing shriek. She clutched at Harry as he tried to silence her with his hand. As her flesh touched his, he felt a jolt and his head snapped to look at the mirror. He saw Ginny once more, only she looked horrible. Her face was white and traced with bluish veins, as if she was being chocked. Her hands and legs were flung out and she shook violently against a cloudy sky. It looked like she was suffering from the cruciatis curse, only much, much worse. At last, her body relaxed and she was falling towards the earth. Harry watched in horror as her body hit the ground and crumpled in front of the unmistakable form of Voldemort. The mirror produced no sounds, but Harry knew he was laughing his chilling laugh. Voldemort raised his hands skywards as maroon and gold sparks filled the air. They seemed to strike the Dark Lord, but he only grew bigger and stronger with each blow. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the still body of Ginny; used and wasted for some sort of power Harry didn't know. Just then, he broke contact with Ginny's skin, and they both fell to the dusty floor.  
  
Ginny stopped screaming at once at started shaking.  
  
"Ginny! Gin! Are you all right? Look at me!" Harry crawled over to her lifted her into a sitting position.  
  
"I don't want that! I don't want it! Do you see? Do you understand now how a destiny can't be avoided! Why would I want that?" She shook and cried. Harry suddenly became aware of two things: one, he was very, very close to Ginny, and two, her screams must have woken someone. He drew her to her feet and said, "C'mon. Of course you don't desire that. You couldn't. Let's get back before we get caught."  
  
"A little late, Mr. Potter." The cold voice filled the large room. Snape.  
  
"I was just doing the normal security rounds when I heard screams. Thinking someone was in distress, I did my duty by coming here. Pity your in no distress," he sneered.  
  
"Honestly, professor, we can explain," Harry said quickly. He then realized that there was no way to explain this at all. He tightened his grip on Ginny, who was hiding her tear stained face in his robes.  
  
"Oh, no! No need to explain. I can draw my own conclusions, thank you," he eyed Ginny's cowering form and the state of both their robes.  
  
"It's not like that!" Harry yelled, knowing what Snape must be thinking.  
  
"Shut up. I said I could draw my own conclusions. So, I'm assuming, can the Headmaster. Out with you!" He shoved them toward the door, and they started down. Ginny clung to Harry the whole way. Harry wondered if she would be all right. As they rounded the last spiral and came out the door, a breathless Hermione bumped straight into them.  
  
"Oh! Good, I've found you! Look, don't you two ever use that map! Both Snape and Bourge are on patrol. I tried to get here as fast as I could. If we hurry, I think we're clear from here to the tower…" She trailed off as she took in Harry and Ginny's condition.  
  
"Somehow, I don't think we're clear at all." Harry said grimly. Snape chuckled from behind them and stepped into the light. Hermione sighed, and without saying a word, turned and started walking with them, accepting the fact that she was in trouble. Snape didn't even comment.  
  
It was a dreary procession, with Hermione fuming, Ginny in shock, Harry on the brink of tears, and Snape looking nastier by the second. They were in the corridor next to Dumbledore's office when a man stepped quickly from a door. It was Professor Bourge.  
  
"Severus, what's going on? Who was screaming?"  
  
"It's all right," Snape said acidly. "It was just Potter here, and one of the Weasley's. Granger appeared on the scene trying to courageously save her friends from this unfortunate end, but luckily, I caught her too." Snape seemed very pleased with himself.  
  
Harry tried to give Bourge a meaningful look, but he was busy staring off into space, thinking hard.  
  
"So, you simply 'caught' them you say. Why was there screaming then? Did you bother to look into it?"  
  
"Please, sir, Ginny saw something disturbing in the Mirror or Erised, and she couldn't help but scream. I think she needs some attention, she's in shock."  
  
Harry said all this very quickly; as he was sure Snape would snap any moment.  
  
"I see. Severus, would you mind if I disciplined these students? I know you don't believe in favoritism, but you must believe me when I say that these are very special circumstances."  
  
Harry tensed, waiting for Snape to explode. Instead, he bowed stiffly and swept away down the corridor, his lips tightly pressed together. Harry suspected the real hell would come in Monday's potions lesson.  
  
"Into my office, now." Bourge seemed more curt than usual. The three students filed in and Bourge closed the door.  
  
"Don't bother explaining, I know exactly what you were thinking when you went to visit the mirror. Don't you think it's been tried? All you would see is a world without Voldemort, not how to kill him. I suppose that is what you saw?"  
  
"Er…not…. yes. That's what I saw." Harry turned bright red and glanced at Ginny who was staring at the ground.  
  
"Well, now you know it doesn't work."  
  
"For the record," interrupted Hermione, "I did not condone this. I only came to warn them that Professor Snape and yourself were pacing around." Hermione's cheeks glowed red, and she stuttered quite a bit.  
  
"Yes, Hermione. I'm sorry this lot is constantly getting you into trouble." He laughed quietly, and Harry was surprised to see a youthful way about his face. "Ginny will be fine," he said more sternly. "My colleagues in the order do not agree with me about luck and chance, and they have probably just frightened her. You want to know more, I'm sure, but it's up to Ginny to tell you, when she's ready. Here, have some tea. It's a special brew I concocted to relax my brain and focus my thoughts."  
  
Harry took the cup he was offered. Ginny was perking up already, and she noticed the burn on Harry's hand.  
  
"I never mended that." She sat her cup down and reached for his hand. She muttered a few words, and the small pain subsided, leaving Harry's thumb healed.  
  
"Thanks." He said simply.  
  
Professor Bourge was pouring two cups, one for Hermione and one for himself. Hermione accepted hers with mumbled thanks. She spilled a good bit down her front on the first sip and blushed even redder.  
  
The conversation that ensued was lively and interesting. Professor Bourge didn't say a thing about a punishment or what had taken place that night. Instead, he kept them entertained with stories about the sorts of trouble he got into when he went to school. In the end, even Ginny was laughing.  
  
"…And then, he threw all his papers into the water cursing us into oblivion. Luckily, Forrester had pocketed his wand earlier, or else I might not be standing before you! But that was ages and ages ago. Times change…. he drifted into thought again.  
  
"How long ago?" Harry asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.  
  
"About seven."  
  
A few quick calculations concluded that his History teacher was only 22 years old. He didn't know you could be that young and still teach. He caught a glimpse of the sun rising through the window in Professor Bourge's office.  
  
"We should probably head to sleep, or breakfast."  
  
"Yes, do. Ah, have a good time in Hogsmeade, and never, under any circumstances, leave the tower at night again. Remember, you are a precious asset now. Oh, and Hermione, 10:00 sharp for those lessons." He ushered them out.  
  
Ginny turned to Hermione as they walked. "Lessons? What lessons could you possibly need?"  
  
"I'm learning the theory behind the sands of time!" Hermione turned in the direction of the great hall; leaving Harry and Ginny to walk back alone. Practically skipping, she called behind her, "Enjoy Hogsmeade! See you at dinner."  
  
Harry furrowed his brows. Surely, this couldn't be what he suspected? The fat lady swung open at their password, and they went to their separate dorms with separate, pressing thoughts in their heads. Professor Bourge's thought focusing tea had worked no magic in their troubled heads. 


End file.
